Ignorance is Bliss
by idareyoutojudgeme
Summary: A young genius begins a search for his mother but finds out that ignorance truly is bliss while searching for the dangerous woman his calls his birth mother.
1. Prolouge

Ignorance is Bliss

Full Summary: A young genius makes a huge mistake and starts a search for his real mother but it soon pulled into many dilemmas while searching for the dangerous woman he calls his birth mother.

Enjoy, my friends, and please let me know of any mistakes through reviews.

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Peace and quiet fell over Sixth Street Orphanage on the night of September 11th, 2001. In a house of eighteen orphans and only one middle aged caretaker, peace and quiet is a miracle, a miracle that can only occur at quarter to eleven, when all the little ones who given up and let sleep take over. The caretaker, Mildred Duffy, was also tired and quietly getting ready for bed, washing her face, combing her hair, and all that. The news was playing in the background about what had happened early that day, which would be known from that day forth as 9/11.

Mildred was frazzled, scared, and shocked about the tragic events. Her town was only four hours away from Washington, D.C, and only three hours away from where the other plane had crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. That was much too close for Ms. Duffy. Midtown, Pennsylvania was located nice and comfy in country Pennsylvania, just between Pittsburgh and Philadelphia and near Pennsylvania State University.

The African American caretaker shuffled in her slippers towards the open window, which she pushed with great force to close. She didn't get the normal creak she was used to hearing. Instead, a terrifying noise reached her ears. A gunshot followed by the cry of pain from a man sounded outside the window on the street. Goosebumps erupted up her arms than she could hear the shuffle of little kids in pajama's running towards her room.

"Mildred!" they all screamed, running into the room. The little kids were there first, than the older ones.

"Was that a gunshot?" a ten year old red head asked.

"No, it was a firework!" a six year old yelled. Many others thing were shouted and Mildred couldn't respond.

"Let's go out there!" A eleven year old dare devil yelled and everybody else cheered, than followed before Mildred could yell, "Wait!"

Another gunshot was heard outside clearly over the yelling orphans. Girlish screams followed, but they didn't hesitate, only ran faster. Soon, they were all on the porch, Mildred trying to get to the front of the crowd. Other neighbors were coming out, too, having heard the gunshot. Mildred gasped at the scene right in front of the orphanage on the street.

Two people were there, one currently lying on the ground, the other above the fallen figure holding a gun. Mildred couldn't see clearly but could tell that the one was a gun was a young armed one was wearing an off-brown cloak which was falling off her head, light brown hair underneath. A spotlight was above them from the street light, like a scene in a play. The man was lying on the ground, two gunshot holes in his chest, blood slowly oozing out and forming a puddle around him. His chest unevenly heaved. After seeing all the witnesses crowding the scene, the girl took off running at an amazingly fast speed but kept the gun pulled in tight to her chest, like a precious treasure a pirate had stolen.

"Get her!" one of the older neighbors yelled. Two teenagers that were on the high school football team took off after her, but she was already gone. Many neighbors had run inside to call 9-11.

"Stay. Here," Mildred ordered the children and they did, nodding silently. Even they could understand the seriousness of the situation. An uneven silence fell over the street.

Cautiously, she walked down than over to the injured man. One gunshot was near his stomach, the other of his left breast, right where his heart was. A glassy look glazed over his blue eyes. His spiky red hair barely showed the blood that stained it.

"Oh, you poor man," Mildred cooed, then brushed back locks of hair from his sweaty face.

"I called the ambulance!" somebody yelled.

"Thank you!" Mildred yelled back. "Help is on the way." She said to the man, using some of her robe to clean off the sweat.

"Lewis," he groaned, each breath sounding painful. He focused his intense blue eyes on Mildred. "I need…to…see Lewis." Only than did Mildred think that the grown man looked a lot like her six year old blond orphan. He even had the same hair, stick up straight but red, but a different face with a more defined chin and a longer nose. The man also had many freckles. Mildred, being the nice lady that she was, let the dying man have his wish.

"Lewis?" she called. "Lewis, come here, honey."

"Me?" the bespectacled boy squeaked.

"Yes, dear, come over here," she said. Lewis did slowly, pulling away from the middle of the pile. He approached them. The man smiled, revealing his perfect white teeth, but than coughed, blood coming with that. Both of their eyes widened and Lewis took a step back fearfully.

"Lewis, my son," he whispered, barely loud enough for them to hear. With a lost hand, he reached towards the young boy, loosely clenching his fingers into a fist.

"Son?" Lewis said confused, looking between the dying man and Mildred. "I'm an orphan; I don't have parents." He said this with sad reluctance, than took a step back, eyes still wide with fear. Mildred grabbed Lewis's hand and the dying mans hand.

The man ignored Lewis's actions, than, with his open hand, reached into his blood stained white polo shirt. When his hand emerged, a crinkled picture was in his hand along with a golden locket hanging from a silver chain.

"Find her," the man wheezed, eyes closing. "Find…your mother." He grabbed the boys shoulders with a last bit of strength, digging his nails with surprising force into Lewis's shoulders.

"But-" the child whispered, tears of pain and maybe confusion in his young blue eyes, staring into the eyes of the wiser blue eyes, the dying blue eyes.

"Please, son, I'm sorry," he whispered, patting the side of Lewis's face. "I love you."

These were his last words to the world as he fell to the ground, blood slowly coming to a stop. A few tears leaked out of Lewis's eyes and Mildred cried, too. Lewis was more confused than sad, but his hands clenched into a small fist around the paper and locket.

"Lewis, go inside," Mildred said firmly as the cry of ambulance in the distance was heard.

"What was he talking about, Mildred?" Lewis asked, eyes still on the now dead man.

"I don't know, hun, now go inside," Mildred said. Lewis did so, only glancing back once, a strangled sound exiting his throat. Mildred pushed back some locks of red hair that was exactly like Lewis's.

Mildred glanced back at the departing orphan, his head bowed, glasses almost falling off his nose.

_Could this man really be related to Lewis? _Mildred thought, than gulped, a traitorous though entering her mind. _And if this man is his father and was killed, could Lewis be in trouble to? And who was that woman?_

The ambulance came a minute later. The man would be pronounced dead and, based on his Pennsylvania drivers license, he was William Vinson, age 35. He was pronounced dead. Lewis was quiet the rest of the night. The man looked so familiar, a familiar stranger. His voice, even though frail and gasping, rang through his young, clouded head as Lewis fell into a troubled sleep, the most in the orphanage to do so.

Peace and quiet fell over Sixth Street Orphanage on the night of Semptember 11th, 2001.


	2. Day of Birth

Ignorance is Bliss

Day of Birth

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Lewis Xavier Marsen was born on May 10th, 1995. Everybody knew he was different from birth and not just because of his blond hair which stuck in many directions like daggers. The doctors held him and waited for him to cry. The newborn, only seconds old, opened his eyes and blue eyes flickered around the room, than landed on a young man, his father. Than, only when looking at the man who was crucial to his existence, did he cry. The father, Alexander Marsen, left the room, muttering some lame excuse nobody bothered to listen. Lewis fell quiet than closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Lily was scared, of course she was. Her blond hair was clinging to her sweaty face, brown eyes frantically darting around. Her chest heaved; the machine hummed; everything was quiet.

"Clean off this newborn," the doctor said, handing the baby boy to the nurse. When the nurse was leaving, Alexander came back but shook his head and refused to re-enter the room. Lily cocked a thin eyebrow but turned to the doctor.

"Dr. Fink?" she whispered, her voice breathy and low, almost seductive. This caused Alexander to stiffen. The doctor shivered and Lily held back a smirk.

"Yes?" he squeaked, than cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up his long nose. Than, in a much deeper voice, said, "Yes?"

"Is that bad? That the boy -he's a boy, right? Good- that he did not cry?" she questioned.

Dr. Fink sighed. "It is not _common _but not unheard of. The nurses will check to make sure the boy is healthy; you have nothing to worry about Li-Mrs. Marsen. Maybe he knew what he was actually looking at." He laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at the glaring Alexander. "Unless the boy is a baby genius, maybe he was just practicing."

He looked anywhere but at the other two, eyes darting around the room. The heavy tension hurt. The brown eyes of Lily looking at him pitifully, the gray pools of Alexander boring through his body and right through his soul, stealing all his secrets with him. It was unfortunate that Dr. Fink knew Mr and Mrs Marsen, but he mostly knew Lily, the blond haired beauty. He knew he favorite color (salmon, but with more pink that orange), the way she liked her smoothie (shaken, not stirred) and the taste of her lips, the way they tasted like forbidden fruits from the garden of Eden. The taste he could not explain into any human words. He especially remembered her eyes. Her amazing eyes that they boy did not have. The brown doe eyes, the way they looked gold in the light and glittered when she got excited.

"Name time," a red head nurse sung, swinging into the room with a blue blanket, the sleeping boy wrapped in the fabric cocoon. Alexander and Lily glanced at each other.

"Lewis?" she offered and than Dr. Fink stiffened. She was going to dare to name the boy after himself?

"Why Lewis?" Alexander spat.

"Didn't I tell you my father was named Lewis?" she said.

"Your fathers name is Cor-" but she cut him off and looked directly at the doctor, batting her eyelashes.

"His name is Lewis, Lewis Xavier Marsen," she said, than looked back at Alexander with content, daring him to press further. He leaned back against the wall in a huff like a sulking kid but grunted. She didn't know what that meant but she didn't really care.

"Lewis, what a beautiful name!" the oblivious nurse giggled. "Should I put him in his cot or would you like to hold him?"

"I would like to be alone with the doctor," Lily demanded. Alexander stood and the nurse skipped out.

"Would you like to hold your son?" the nurse asked, slowly shutting the door. Alexander grunted and headed to the coffee. "Geesh, Mr. Grouchy Pants, don't hold your own kid." She than closed the door.

"Lewis," she said. "Lewis, come, sit."

He did so.

"You and I both know the son is yours," she said. "He looks nothing like _him_."

"The boy cannot be mine," he said. "How could that happen?"

"Well, when two adults love each other very much and forget to use protection-" she started in a sarcastic tone but Lewis cut her off with the wave of his hand.

"I am very aware of that part," he said. "Besides, we did use protection."

She shrugged, sitting up fully. "Who's know who or what we can trust these days."

"Does Alexander know?" he questioned.

She scoffed. "Of course he knows the child is not his. I do not let him come near me. Boss paired us together. I do not question Boss like your wife did."

The doctor flinched, the subject hitting a nerve. He looked away towards the window, absent mindlessly twisting the golden ring on his finger, the wedding ring he still hadn't taken off.

"When was the funeral?" she asked, her voice soft and welcoming. She rapped her fingers gracefully over his knuckles. He closed his eyes and sighed. Lily usually was a bitch but when she wanted to be kind, when it actually mattered, she was an angel.

"Tonight," he said softly. She smiled.

"I received no invitation," she teased. His obsidian eyes flickered towards the doorway.

"I thought he would not appreciate it," he said.

"Lewis, really, my marriage in an act," she said. He looked at her left ring finger; she wore the gift he gave her, the amethyst ring he had gotten for her birthday. He hid a gasp. She leaned forward, invading his personal bubble but he made no move but the breath hitched in his throat. "I'm a mistress of disguise." Than she softly pressed her lips to his cheek, right on the corner of his mouth. He sighed when she pulled back. She was such a tease.

But the guilt welled in him, deep in the pit of his stomach. Even though he wife was dead, he felt like he was betraying her.

"So can I come?" she questioned, venturing his face curiously with her eyes, wide and brown like a deer. The dirty blond hair fell around her face in little locks. He tried to hide his grimace, the grimace of guilt that usually brought tears, but she was too quick. "I'll take that as a no. Well, I have a newborn child to take care of anyway. I have a feeling Little Lewis is going to be a complicated child to take care of."

_A/N Um, yeah, pretty confusing. Oh, well, I had to put something up. Reviews, please, help me a lot. Flames will be used to heat me as I freeze slowly in front of my laptop. Stupid blizzard._


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